One Reason
by Beledi1113
Summary: Summary – Another version of what happened to Castle in Hollander's Woods when he was 11 and how that influenced him to become a mystery writer.
1. Chapter 1 What People Are Capable Of

**One Reason**

Summary – Another version of what happened to Castle in Hollander's Woods when he was 11 and how that influenced him to become a mystery writer.

Author's Notes: Hmm, I do have one more Castle story left in me. Hopefully I'll finish this before Monday's new episode. It won't be too long, maybe 2 chapters.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

**Chapter 1 – What People Are Capable Of**

# # # # # # # # #

From Vampire Weekend:

Alexis: _How could she take care of him the way we did, and then just destroy him? _

Castle:_ I don't know. I think that's...that's one reason why I write about it._

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Mrs. Sterns, housekeeper to the elderly Mr. Dugas, had worked for him for 20 years, ever since his wife passed away, cooking and cleaning, and in the last several years, running errands and taking him places after his driver's license had been revoked because of failing eye sight.

She had been away for a week, having gone to Illinois to take care of her sister who had to have surgery.

Mr. Dugas had told her that he would be fine. His niece Lizzy would stop by every couple of days to bring him meals and check on him, and he had his old beagle Bessie to keep him company, so she didn't need to worry about him – she would have her hands full taking care of her sister.

Mrs. Sterns had stopped by the store that morning to pick up a few supplies and then walked into the darkened house.

She then paused to listen for any sounds in the house, but heard none, so she went about her morning routine.

She didn't expect Bessie to greet her because the dog had gone deaf about a year ago, though she did bay at things that only she saw on occasion.

And it wasn't unusual for Mr. Dugas to sleep late because he hadn't been sleeping well for the last couple of months. 'These old bones just must be weary,' he would quip with a smile as he would slowly settle himself into a chair in front of the fireplace.

She rattled around the kitchen, putting the groceries away and making the requisite morning pot of tea.

Mr. Dugas had never developed a taste for coffee and had shown her the proper way of making tea when she first started working for him.

After fixing breakfast, she put it on the tray and walked to the bedroom at the back of the house.

"Mr. Dugas?" she called, putting the tray on top of the bookcase in the hallway and then knocking on the closed door. "I'm back. They had some lovely blueberries at the store this morning, so I fixed your favorite – blueberry pancakes."

She paused for a moment and then quietly opened the door and picked up the tray again.

"Mr. Dugas?" she called out as she looked around the dim room.

The curtains had been drawn shut, blocking out most of the light, but she could make out the outline of a man lying on the bed with Bessie beside him.

She paused for a moment and frowned. The dog would have jumped up the moment she walked into the room, not because she had heard her, but because she could still smell food and, when she did, she would let everyone in the house know that she was hungry and had not been fed in forever.

"Mr. Dugas?" she called out softly as she approached the bed.

When the man didn't stir, she put the tray down on the nightstand beside the bed and gently shook him, but got no response.

She turned on the light and then turned back to the bed, gasping at the sight.

Mr. Dugas was obviously dead and so was Bessie.

But the frightening thing was the leash tied tightly around the dog's neck and the blood smears on Mr. Dugas' pajamas.

Mrs. Sterns fled the room and called 911 immediately.

# # # # # # # #

Beckett and Castle sat talking to the woman in the dining room while CSU combed through the house and she recounted the morning.

"Who would do this to him?" Mrs. Sterns finally asked tearfully, dabbing her eyes. "He was such a sweet man."

"When you got here this morning, did you see anything out of the ordinary?" Beckett asked.

"No, no," Mrs. Sterns replied, shaking her head. "The door was locked. The lights were out."

"And you didn't find it strange that the dog didn't bark when you walked in?" asked Castle.

"No," Mrs. Sterns replied again, smiling wistfully. "Bessie just turned 15 – her hearing went a couple of months ago. The poor thing was in a bad way."

"Was there anyone else who had a key to the house?" Beckett asked.

"Yes, his niece Lizzy. She was going to check on him last week while I was out of town."

"We'll need her full name and number," Beckett said, glancing up as Espo walked into the room and nodded at her.

"Excuse us for a minute, Mrs. Sterns," Beckett said as they stood and walked over to Espo. "What have you got?"

"No signs of forced entry, but Perlmutter found something in the bedroom," he replied.

They quickly walked to the room where Perlmutter was examining the bodies on the bed.

"Detective Beckett," Perlmutter nodded and then scowled slightly. "Mr. Castle."

"Perlmutter," nodded Castle.

"Detective Esposito said you found something?" Beckett asked.

Perlmutter nodded thoughtfully as he glanced at the night stand. "Yes. I don't think this was a murder. I think Mr. Dugas committed suicide."

Beckett frowned at him. "Based on what?"

Perlmutter picked up the empty prescription bottle on the nightstand and handed it to Beckett. "This is Doxepin – a very powerful sleeping pill. It was filled three days ago and contained 30 pills, but it's now empty. And then there's this…" he said, carefully picking up a glass with blood streaks running down the side.

"So Mr. Dugas took the pills?" asked Beckett. "But what about the defensive wounds on his hands?"

Perlmutter looked at her. "Well, they are defensive wounds, but not from Mr. Dugas defending himself." He carefully lifted one of sleeves of Mr. Dugas' pajamas so they could see several bloody gashes on his hand.

"Based on the blood on the dog's paws, I think that before he took the pills, Dugas tied the leash around the dog's neck. The poor dog didn't suspect a thing since this was her beloved master," Perlmutter surmised. "But then Dugas pulled the leash tighter and tighter, cutting off the dog's air supply. Instinct kicked in and the dog fought back, clawing him to gain her freedom. But he kept pulling, choking the life out of—"

His face going pale, Castle felt his head spin as Perlmutter continued his diatribe and suddenly bolted out of the room, rushing past the CSU unit to reach the outside of the house, where he found a trash can and quickly emptied his breakfast into it.

A few moments later, he felt a hand on his back and Beckett was there, offering him a glass of water.

"You okay?" she asked worriedly.

Castle took a sip from the glass of water, swished it around his mouth, and spit it out into the trash can. "Yeah – just an overly-vivid imagination," he said.

Castle glanced back at the house and then looked at Beckett as he ran a hand through his hair. "I think I'll get a cab and go home. Don't want give Perlmutter any more reason to trash my manly image," he quipped.

"Are you sure?" asked Beckett, frowning slightly.

"Yeah," nodded Castle. "I'll see you tonight at home." He glanced over her shoulder and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I think Espo is looking for you."

"Okay," Beckett said as she kissed him back. "I'll see you at home tonight."

She frowned slightly as he walked to the end of the driveway and pulled out his phone before focusing her attention on Esposito.

# # # # # # # #

The niece was waiting for them at the precinct when they arrived.

Yes, she had checked on her uncle several times during the week, even bringing him the refill on his Doxepin prescription on Wednesday. But she had come down with the flu on Friday and had been unable to take him to his doctor's appointment so he had called and rescheduled it to this week when Mrs. Sterns would be back.

A call to the doctor's office had confirmed what Perlmutter suspected was the cause of the suicide – Mr. Dugas' cancer had returned and it was aggressive and inoperable. He only had a couple of weeks to live.

# # # # # # # #

After the interview, Beckett left Espo and Ryan to finish the paperwork on the case and hurried home, concerned about Castle and the fact that he hadn't called or texted her to find out how the case was going.

Martha was in the kitchen, preparing something green in the blender, a facial or a smoothie or something that could be used as either, and looked up as Beckett walked in. "Katherine, darling – care to join me for a drink of life's elixir?"

"Oh, thank you, Martha, but no," Beckett said as they hugged and kissed. "Is Rick in his office?"

Martha frowned slightly. "No, Richard hasn't been home all day. Why?"

Beckett shook her head slightly. "Oh, it's probably nothing. We had a case and he kinda lost it – you know—"

"Oh, goodness," Martha chuckled. "I'm sure he's someplace nursing his wounded pride. Maybe at the Old Haunt?" she suggested.

"Yeah," said Beckett, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. "I'll just give him a call."

She walked into his office and pulled out her phone, quickly speed dialing his number. She froze as it went to voice mail, the same ominous knot of dread starting to form in the pit of her stomach when her calls had done the same thing before their missed wedding.

She left a quick message and then called the Old Haunt, knowing that Brian would be there. No, he hadn't seen Castle either and he had just come up from the downstairs office, going through some of the liquor orders.

Before she had a chance to even think about where to begin looking, her phone chirped, letting her know she had a text message.

It was short, but it was from Castle. "At the Central Park zoo – the bear exhibit. Come meet me."

Beckett frowned at that. Whenever they went to the zoo, Castle had never shown any interest in the bears. Why would he go there now?

# # # # # # # #

It was almost closing time at the zoo when Beckett arrived and she had to flash her badge to gain access to the facility.

She quickly walked to Treena's Overlook and found Castle sitting on a bench, a pensive look on his face, watching the grizzly bears.

"Hey," she said, smiling slightly as she sat down beside him. "Been here long?" She waited for a moment before adding, "Espo and Ryan left some sandwich bags on the desk for you the next time we have a murder."

She frowned when Castle didn't reply with an acerbic quip. "Babe, are you okay?" she asked.

Castle was silent for a moment and then let out a shuddering breath. "They're magnificent – the grizzlies," he said. "We don't have them here in New York, but we do have black bears. Equally as magnificent but smaller and not as aggressive unless they think they are in danger."

Beckett looked at the tears in his eyes as he spoke and took his hand. "Castle – Rick? What's wrong?"

Castle let out another breath and looked at Beckett sadly. "Kate, there's something I haven't told you. The fake Jenkins – he was there when I went back to Canada - he told me that I had told him what had happened in Hollander's Woods when I was 11 so I would know that I could trust him."

Beckett was silent as Castle continued.

"I never told anyone what happened then – not my mother, not Alexis. I was so ashamed of what happened – of what I had done," he said, closing his eyes with a pained expression on his face.

He stilled for a few moments and then straightened. "But I need to tell you…and my mother…and Alexis. You all deserve to know."

# # # # # # # #


	2. Chapter 2 An Unfortunate Event

**One Reason**

Summary – Another version of what happened to Castle in Hollander's Woods when he was 11 and how that influenced him to become a mystery writer.

Author's Notes: Hmm, I do have one more Castle story left in me. Hopefully I'll finish this before Monday's new episode. It won't be too long, maybe 2 chapters.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

**Chapter 2 – An Unfortunate Event**

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"So what's with the last minute family meeting?" Alexis asked as she plopped her school books down on the kitchen counter and then walked to the couch where Martha sat and gave her a big hug and kiss.

"Don't know, kiddo – just that your father called and requested one," said Martha, returning the hug. "He sounded very serious."

Alexis frowned slightly. "Really?"

The doorbell chimed and she hopped up to answer it, surprised to find Lanie, Espo, and Ryan standing in the hallway.

"Hey, Alexis," Lanie said, giving her a hug.

"HI, Lanie," said Alexis, hugging her back. "What are you doing here – not that I don't mind seeing you…"

"Castle and Beckett called and said they needed to talk to us as a group and asked us to meet them here," replied Espo.

"Okay," said Alexis with a slight curious hesitation. "They aren't home yet. Can I get you something to drink?"

"A beer?" said Ryan and Espo, nodding at each other.

"White wine," said Lanie.

"Sure thing," said Alexis, smiling at them.

The trio walked over to the couch where Martha stood and hugged each of them.

"Do you have any idea what's going on?" Ryan asked Martha.

She shook her head. "No, none. This was a shock to me also."

"You know, the last time they asked us over, they announced that they had gotten married. So maybe they have another announcement this time?" Lanie suggested.

"Well, there was that incident today at the crime scene…" said Ryan.

"Why – what happened?" asked Alexis, her concern evident as she brought the drinks over.

"An elderly man had gotten bad news and killed his dog and himself. Your dad tossed his cookies," said Espo as he took a sip of his beer.

"Well, Richard has always had a soft spot for animals," said Martha in her son's defense. "Ah, there they are now," she commented as the door to the loft opened and Castle and Beckett walked in. "You found him," she said to Kate as she let out a sigh of relief.

"Yeah, I did," said Beckett, nodding and pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. She walked over to the couch and hugged Martha and Alexis.

"You said you needed to talk to us," said Lanie expectantly. "So…?"

Beckett gave Castle's hand a quick squeeze of encouragement and then sat down next to Martha.

"I invited you here this evening because…there's something I need to tell you…something important…something I've never told anyone before—except for the 1 person whom I did tell years ago, and then the fake Jenkins, but I don't think there was anyone else—" said Castle.

Beckett cleared her throat slightly and raised an eyebrow at Castle to stop his rambling.

"Right. Point taken." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "First, let me apologize for my behavior this morning. The circumstances took me by surprise."

"No problem," said Espo and Ryan, both shrugging slightly.

"It can happen to anyone," said Ryan.

"Although I'm sure Perlmutter is going to ask you not to eat before coming to crime scenes anymore," said Espo.

Castle ran a hand through his hair. "Anyway…this has to do with why I write murder mysteries—"

"Because you want to know why people act the way they do," inserted Alexis.

"And you need to know the story – how it all fits together," added Beckett.

Castle nodded. "And there's a reason for that." He paused. "There were a series of events – some might even call them traumatic – when I was 11…"

_Flashback to when Castle was 11…_

A large smile on his face, Ricky sat in the rear seat of the van, enjoying the view of the trees as they flashed past.

Life was good for once – he was excelling in school for a change, having a teacher who didn't hold his constant curiosity against him like some of his other teachers had done; Martha was in a relationship with a man who enjoyed spending time with him; they had a decent apartment for once and a little money for luxuries.

"Uncle" Tony Chao, Martha's current flame, came from a big, loud Chinese-American family that had a restaurant in Chinatown. He ran the restaurant with his brother Paul and his sister Maisie, and various aunts, uncles, and cousins worked there.

Ricky wasn't sure how Tony and his mom had met – probably when Tony delivered food to the theater where Martha had been in a production. Most of the time now, Tony spent the nights at their apartment and had invited Ricky to spend the afternoons after school at the restaurant, where he was quickly adopted by the Chao family.

Business was so good that they decided to expand the restaurant, but the Health Department wasn't keen on them being open during that phase, so Tony and Paul had decided to take that time to get out of the city on a camping trip to Hollander's Woods, leaving drill sergeant Maisie to oversee the project. Fortunately, the boys were out of school for 2 days because of teacher in-service so they all had a long weekend to enjoy the time in the great outdoors.

Hollander's Woods was several hours north of New York in the Catskill Mountains. It was February and most of the official camping sites were closed for the season, but the brothers knew of a little area off the beaten path that had a stream nearby for fishing.

They quickly set up the tents, created the chore board, and set up a fire pit.

With all of the necessities taken care of, they then pulled out the fishing poles to test their luck and had a fine meal of pan-fried fish and veggies that night.

The next day, they hiked around the area, looking for tracks in the brown grass and dirt for animals, and set up targets to practice shooting with the rifles that Tony and Paul had brought. Most of the time, the boys used smaller BB guns, but occasionally they were permitted to shoot the rifles if they cleaned them afterwards.

That night, they sat around the fire pit, telling stories and watching the stars.

And up to that point, it had been an uneventful camping trip until Ricky and Lee had gone out to gather wood the next morning.

Ricky checked the chore board. "Hey," he yelled at Lee, "we need to get the firewood for tonight."

"Sure," answered Lee. "Let me tell my dad that we're going."

"Okay," replied Ricky as Lee headed toward the stream where the men were fishing.

Ricky walked around the edges of the camp site, picking up some smaller twigs to use a kindling. They had already picked up the dry logs near the camp, so now they were going to have to expand the search area.

He carried the kindling he had found back to the log pile and put it neatly on the ground like Tony had shown him.

"You ready?" he asked as Lee walked back up. His eyes went wide as he saw the rifle that Lee carried. "Did your dad give you permission to bring that?"

Lee shrugged. "Sure." He looked around and then pointed. "Let's go that way. I saw some big logs near the trail yesterday."

"Okay," agreed Ricky.

They hiked about half a mile from the camp, carefully leaving signs so that they could find their way back when they spotted a large tree that had fallen down and then broken into several pieces.

"Wow," exclaimed Lee, his eyes flashing with delight. "That would make a great camp fire."

The boys raced over to the scattered logs, looking for the best one to drag back to camp.

"Here – I think we can get this one," said Ricky, using his foot to roll the log slightly to check for snakes. They shouldn't be around this time of the year, but you never could be too careful.

"Yeah," said Lee as he laid the rifle down and examined the log. "You know, this would be easier if we could pull it back. Here, give me your belt," he said as he took off his own belt.

He quickly attached the two belts together and then wrapped them around the log. Now if they only had something for straps…

"How about these?" asked Ricky as he held up 2 long twigs that were still flexible.

"That could work," said Lee as he looped the twigs under the belts. "Here – you take the front and I'll push."

"Why do I have to be in front?" Ricky asked, frowning.

"Because this was your idea and I have to carry the rifle," said Lee.

"Okay," Ricky grumbled and picked up the ends of the twigs. He pulled and felt the log move slightly and then stop. "I think it's stuck."

"Yeah," said Lee. He walked around to the back of the log, put the rifle down, and leaned against the log. The log moved out of the dip it was in. "There – just one more push—"

Suddenly, the ground underneath him gave way and he found himself sliding down a short hill, coming to rest in the opening of a small cave.

"Lee! Lee!" Ricky screamed as he ran around the log to look for his friend. "You okay?!"

Lee sat up and shook the leaves out of his hair. "Yeah, yeah – I'm fine. That hill's smaller than the slide at pool. And I landed on something soft."

He turned to look at what he landed on and let out an ear shattering scream.

Ricky stood frozen in horror for a moment as a black bear rose up to tower over Lee and then scrambled for the rifle, sighted through the scope, and pressed the trigger like Tony had shown him.

_Present Day…_

"Oh my god, Dad, you shot Lee!" exclaimed Alexis, her eyes wide.

Castle looked at her slightly askance. "No, I shot the bear. Right through the heart – Tony and Paul said it was beginner's luck. Of course, the recoil from the rifle knocked me flat on my ass. And it was a pretty grizzly scene, with the blood going everywhere."

"Oh, you poor dear," said Martha, clutching her son's hand. "No wonder you were traumatized."

"What? That?" Castle replied with frown. "No – although it was kind of fascinating and gory at the same time. Anyway, Paul and Tony had heard us scream and the rifle go off…"

_Flashback to Hollander's Woods…_

Paul and Tony quickly ran to where the boys were, Paul sliding down the hill to get to his son as Tony grabbed Ricky into a tight hug.

"Are you okay?" he asked the shaking boy.

"Lee slid down the hill and there was a bear – it was going to eat him so I shot it," Ricky replied, his eyes never leaving where the bear lay.

Tony looked down at Paul. "How's Lee?"

Paul nodded. "He's fine." He looked at his son. "But we are going to have a talk about why you had my rifle."

"Yes, sir," the boy replied quietly.

After reassuring themselves that both boys were unharmed, Tony carefully walked down the hill to stand next to his brother and survey the carcass.

The bear was definitely dead, a small female about 150 pounds, but still large enough to do damage. This could have been so much worse…

He looked at his brother. "Guess we better call the rest of the family for a bear-b-que."

By the time the rest of the family arrived at Hollander's Woods with ice chests and carving knives, Tony and Paul had drug the bear back to the camp and the boys had gathered more wood for the fire.

_Present Day…_

"And they butchered it in front of you?" asked Espo. "That would make anyone squeamish."

Castle shrugged slightly. "I had been hanging out at the restaurant for months and they were very particular about the quality of their meat. They'd have live pigs, geese, ducks, chickens, and seafood delivered and the women would kill and dress them. It was rather interesting to watch."

"You don't say," said Ryan with a slightly queasy expression.

"Then, what was so traumatic?" asked Lanie.

Castle sighed slightly. "The bear was female and had 2 cubs, about a month old, in her den. And because of me, they didn't have their mother."

_Flashback to Hollander's Woods…_

Ricky watched in fascination and some horror as the family made quick work of the bear, skinning and dressing it, and then cooking the flank on the fire pit.

"Hey, you okay?" Tony asked as he walked over to where the boy stood.

Ricky nodded. "Yeah, but I'm sorry about the bear."

Tony looked at him intently. "Don't be – if you hadn't shot it, the bear would have killed Lee."

"But the bear wasn't doing anything until we disturbed it," Ricky replied. "It wasn't the bear's fault."

"No, it wasn't," Tony agreed. "The bear was just being a bear. But things like that happen, Ricky, and then we have to choose the best bad option."

Ricky frowned at him.

"You'll understand when you're older." Tony smiled slightly and then was serious again. "But right now, there's something I want to show you."

They walked over to a small cardboard box that had been lined with an old blanket.

Tony lifted the corner of the blanket up so that Ricky could see the two bundles of fur underneath.

"Those are cubs…" Ricky stammered.

"Yes," said Tony as he watched the boy's eyes rim with tears. "But remember that you saved Lee's life."

"Can I touch them?" Ricky asked quietly.

"Sure," said Tony.

"What's going to happen to them?" Ricky asked quietly as he gently stroked one of the cubs, feeling the soft fur.

"Well, right now, Ye Ye has brought bottles and formula and diapers, so we're going to be busy until we can talk to the park ranger about where they can go. It's Saturday now and the ranger won't be back until Monday morning. Think you're up to it?"

Ricky smiled as the cub nuzzled against his hand. "Sure."

# # # # # # # #


	3. Chapter 3 Bad Choices

**One Reason**

Summary – Another version of what happened to Castle in Hollander's Woods when he was 11 and how that influenced him to become a mystery writer.

Author's Notes: Okay, so this is turning out to be more than 2 chapters; I'll try to keep it to 3. Thanks for much for all the reviews, follows, and favs. They really mean a lot. Can't wait for Monday! This is rated M because of graphic content.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

**Chapter 3 – Bad Choices**

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_Still at Hollander's Woods…_

They took four hour shifts feeding the cubs and keeping them warm and comfortable, the boys during the day and the men at night. The diapers were too big, so they decided not to use them, keeping things au naturel as much as they could.

It wasn't the same as the cubs having the mother bear look after them, but Ricky was sure they could find a nice home for them, he thought as he fed one of the cubs.

The weather took a turn for the worse Sunday morning, with snow threatening, so they decided to take the cubs back to the city until they could talk to the authorities. They packed up the van, and Ricky and Lee took turns holding that box that the cubs nestled in on the way back.

"Tony," Ricky asked hesitantly as he gently stroked one of the sleeping cubs. "Do you think my mother would let me keep one of them?"

Tony chuckled and glanced in the rearview mirror as he drove, looking into the boy's hopeful eyes. "Well, Ricky, as cute as those cubs are, they are wild animals and they will grow to be very big really quickly. They deserve to be in a place where they can live as nature intended them to live, not stuck in some apartment in New York City, don't you think?"

Ricky let out a sigh. "I guess you're right." He thought a moment longer. "But how will I know if they're okay? What if something happens to them?"

Paul turned to look at the boys in the back of the van. "Boys, there are no guarantees in life."

"Wow, talk about raining on a parade," Tony said with a frown, glancing at his brother in the front seat. "The truth is that you just have to do the best you can and let the universe iron the rest out."

"Okay," Ricky half-whined as they pulled up and parked in front of the restaurant.

"Huh," said Paul, looking at the black town car also parked there. "What's Mr. Chang doing here?"

"Maybe he wanted to come by and inspect the place, you know, since he owns half of the restaurant," Tony said. As he was opening the door, he looked back at the boys. "Leave the cubs here and put the food away – you know where everything goes. Rock-paper-scissors?" he asked, looking over at his brother.

"I'd rather supervised them," said Paul, motioning with his thumb at the boys, "than to talk to that old bast—goat."

"Okay," said Tony laughing.

The boys clamored out of the van and opened the rear hatch. By the time they unloaded the plastic bins, neatly put the food away (because they would have had the unenviable chore of mopping the kitchen floor if they didn't), and walked back to the van, Tony was waiting outside for them.

"Hey, Ricky, I've got something I need to do here at the restaurant. Paul, can you take Ricky home for me?" he asked his brother.

"Sure," replied Paul.

Tony ruffled Ricky's hair. "Tell your mom I'll be by later and I'm really looking forward to her home-cooked meal."

"Sure," said Ricky. He didn't have the heart to tell Tony that his mother's "home-cooked" meals were from Mrs. Beatrice who lived next door to them. Martha and kitchens didn't mix well.

The boys climbed back into the van, Lee calling shotgun, while Ricky sat in the back.

They were a few blocks away from the restaurant when Ricky looked in the box where the cubs had been to check on them and then gasped. They were gone.

"Stop the van!" he yelled, causing Paul to slam on the brakes which sent the box sliding onto the floor.

"They're not here!" Ricky said frantically as he rooted through the blankets on the floorboard. "Where'd they go? Did they get out?"

"Are you sure?" Paul asked, pulling the van into a parking lot and getting out to help in the search.

The cubs were definitely gone.

"Maybe they crawled out at the restaurant," Ricky said worriedly.

Paul frowned. They were too little to get out of the box on their own, but that didn't mean that someone didn't walk by and snatch them.

They got in the van and drove back to the restaurant, parking in the alley by the back door. He had barely stopped the van when Ricky opened the door and jumped out.

"Tony! Tony!" he yelled as he jerked the back door open and raced to the office. "The cubs – they're gone! Someone took them!"

Ricky opened the door to the office and what he was about to say was frozen on his lips at the scene in front of him.

Tony stood in front of a small shrine, holding a knife in the air. Several red candles burned at each end, a jar with sticks of incense smoking in front of a scroll. Mr. Chang knelt on a pillow in front of him. Both wore a ceremonial robes and headdresses. The cubs lay limply on the altar, red cords tied tightly around their necks.

"What have you done?!" Ricky screamed as he rushed at the men, grabbing the cubs and pulling them away. "Why would you do that?"

"Brother, what have you done?" hissed Paul, standing behind Ricky.

Chang stood, glared at Tony, and then rushed out of the office, pulling off the robe as he went and throwing it in a trashcan.

Ricky knelt on the ground, tears streaming down his face, as he cradled the limp cubs against his chest. "They're dead," he whispered in disbelief.

"Here," said Paul, kneeling down next to him. "Let me…"

He took one of the cubs and gently undid the red cord around its neck, and then did the same with the other one. He then put them into the box he had carried in, before standing and looked at his brother.

Tony shook his head. "They wouldn't have lived – they were too young to be separated from their mother," he said.

"You don't know that," said Paul. "Boys, go wait for me in the car. I'll be there in a minute."

Ricky stood up, wiping his nose on his sleeve, and walked toward the door where Lee waited. He paused and turned back to Tony. "I hate you," he spat vehemently. "I hope you die."

_Present Day…_

"Oh, Dad," whispered Alexis, tears in her eyes.

"Wow," said Ryan quietly, blinking several times.

"No wonder you tossed your cookies this morning," commented Espo before Lanie elbowed him in the ribs.

"Oh, Richard, I'm so sorry," said Martha as she clutched her son's hand. "I wish you had told me. I would have kicked Tony out in a heartbeat."

Castle shook his head with an ironic smile. "If you remember, you did, but it wasn't because of that."

Beckett looked stricken. "Oh, babe, that must have been so hard for you. But shooting the bear was an accident – that's nothing to be ashamed of."

Castle nodded. "Over the years, I've come to accept that. When I shot the bear, I saved Lee's life. And I did find out why Tony did what he did."

"And that's why you write murder mysteries?" Lanie asked.

"Yes—no," said Castle, shaking his head and then began to speak again…

_Previously…_

Paul walked Ricky up to his apartment door. "Is your mom home?"

Ricky nodded. "Yeah, she is."

Paul waited as Ricky unlocked the door. "Listen, kid, I'm sorry for what my asshole of a brother did – he shouldn't have. If you need to talk to anyone, just call me – anytime – okay?"

"Thanks," nodded Ricky as he opened the door and walked into the apartment, closing the door behind him.

He frowned as he looked around the empty apartment that only had one lamp on in the corner. There was no "home-cooked" meal waiting for them, no glow of candles on the table (although he never wanted to see candles again), no Martha waltzing around the kitchen in a frilly apron.

Ricky walked over to the kitchen area and took the note off the refrigerator door and smiled slightly to himself. Well, if this was history repeating itself, Tony wouldn't be around much longer.

He put his duffle bag in his bedroom and walked next door to Mrs. Beatrice's, as he was supposed to do when he got home and Martha wasn't there.

Just as he expected, Tony was gone by the end of the week. Martha had gotten a new part and was now absorbed in fleshing out her character and had little time for any extraneous activities, such as cooking, cleaning, and other things Ricky didn't want to think of.

A few days later, Martha asked Ricky to take a sack of things Tony had left at their apartment to the restaurant.

Ricky waited until he saw Tony leave to make a delivery and then walked in through the front door, carrying the sack.

"Ricky!" exclaimed Auntie Lin when she saw him. "Where have you been? We miss you."

Ricky shrugged. "Busy," he said. "You know, school and everything. Is Auntie M here?"

"She's in the kitchen. Go on back," Auntie Lin said. "And don't be such a stranger."

Ricky smiled at her and walked through the double doors into the kitchen.

Maisie stood by the stove, stirring a large pot of soup. "Oh, Ricky, it's so good to see you." She smiled at him wistfully. "I am so sorry what my jackass of a brother did. He had no right."

"Yeah," Ricky said. He put the sack on a cart in the corner. "Mom asked me to bring these by."

"I'll make sure he gets them," said Maisie. She ladled soup into a take-out container and then put it in a sack. "Be a dear, Ricky, and drop this by Mr. Duncan's on the way home? He's under the weather."

"Sure," said Ricky. He paused a moment and then looked at Auntie M pensively. "So why did Tony do it? Why did he…?"

Maisie shook her head and let out an exasperated breath. "One of the 7 deadly sins – greed. My father-in-law was a superstitious old fool with more money than brains. He thought the blood of the cubs would keep him young, keep him from dying."

"But that wouldn't," replied Ricky, shaking his head.

"No, of course not. Everyone knows it's the hearts of virile young men that do that," said Maisie with a slight smile. She bopped Ricky's nose with the end of a spoon and winked at him. "So, when you get a little older and get things sorted out, stop by and see me."

At that moment, Tony walked back in. "You forgot the…" his voice trailed off when he saw Ricky standing there. "Uh, hey, kid. How are you and your mom?"

Wide-eyed, Ricky stared at Maisie who had gone back to stirring the pot of soup and then looked at Tony. "Uh, fine. We're fine." He grabbed the sack. "I'm just going to go now."

_Present Day…_

"Oh my god, Rick," said Beckett, jumping up from the couch and putting a hand over her heart. "Oh my god – Maisie Chao Chang – Auntie M was the Boston bloody heart serial killer! And she made a pass at you!"

"And that's why I write murder mysteries," said Castle.

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AN – no, this isn't the end. One more chapter to go. And please don't be cruel to animals.


	4. Chapter 4 There Are No Coincidences

**One Reason**

Summary – Another version of what happened to Castle in Hollander's Woods when he was 11 and how that influenced him to become a mystery writer.

Author's Notes: We're back to a high T now (rated for swearing and intense situations). And yes, don't be mean to animals. Thanks for much for all the reviews, follows, and favs. They really mean a lot.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

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**Chapter 4 – There Are No Coincidences**

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_Present Day…_

"The Boston bloody heart serial killer?" Ryan asked, clueless as to whom this person was.

"And she hit on you when you were 11?" Espo asked skeptically. "Bro, are you sure? That is so not cool."

"Well, it did take me a couple of years to figure that out, being as young and naïve as I was at the time," Castle commented. "But I did eventually."

"Good thing you did," said Lanie. "She was one of my case studies in forensic pathology."

"And we studied her at a police symposium," added Beckett, starting to pace as she remembered the briefing. "In the mid to late 1980's, there were a series of murders in Boston, at least 10 that we know of. All young males between 18 to 20 years old. They were manual laborers, some of them illegals. Most of them didn't have any close family so no one would notice if they disappeared."

She ran a hand through her hair as she continued. "At first, the killings happened just once a year and then they became more frequent. The bodies were found in different areas of the city and they had been burnt. Different precincts were working on the cases, so they never made the connection. That is until the last 3 murders."

"The last 3?" asked Ryan. "What was different about those?"

"The bodies didn't burn completely so the autopsies were more complete," replied Lanie.

"Yes," said Beckett. "A sudden rain storm put the fire out on one."

"And then some homeless people found a body burning a building and put that fire out," added Lanie.

"And the last one was in an office complex under renovation – the sprinkler system came on and put out the fire," continued Beckett.

"That's when they found out what the victims had in common – they were all young men and their hearts had been removed," said Lanie. "Hence the name Boston bloody heart serial killer—"

"Oh my god," gasped Alexis, staring at her father with wide eyes. "That's what that woman said to you, Dad!"

Castle nodded.

"But there was no DNA evidence left at the scene and no cameras in the areas where the murders happened, so all they knew was that they had a serial killer," commented Lanie.

Beckett nodded. "Until some unidentified person gave them information that helped them crack the case in May, 1987." She looked at Castle with a sudden revelation. "Rick, that was you, wasn't it?"

Castle nodded again. "Yeah, it was. As I've said before, there are no coincidences…"

_May, 1987…_

Rick Rodgers sat nervously in the hallway, drumming his foot against the floor, waiting for his turn in Principal Dunnan's office.

The required senior class prank had been epic and one that wouldn't be topped in school history for quite some time, but now, he was sure it hadn't been such a good idea after all.

David Harrington, the class president, had suggested it and they had spent months planning it.

Rodgers of course was an integral part, being the one who could supply the goods – or rather the needed livestock; even though he was the proverbial city slicker, he knew a guy.

Bernie Pratt had also been instrumental. After late band practice the night before the prank, he had left the side door open so they could get inside the building early the next morning. He was also nominated to carry the shovel behind the cow and scoop if needed as they guided the bovine through the halls and up the stairs to the roof of the building.

Poole, Henry, and Risner struggled to carry a small bale of hay behind them, and Trent carried a bucket of water.

But they were all pleased with the results when the animal finally stood contentedly on the roof, roped to a pipe so that it wouldn't wander off, contentedly chewing on the hay.

Yes, thought Rodgers as he rubbed the cow between the eyes, this was going to be great.

The thing about a good prank is for it not to be discovered immediately, to let it play out slowly, "milking" it for all its worth.

That morning, teachers on the upper floors reported hearing a cow moo occasionally, although that was impossible. The sounds become more frequent as the day wore on and the sun climbed higher and higher in the sky. Then the bumping and thumping on the roof started.

The rumor mill was in full swing shortly afterwards as the students whispered among themselves that the "magnificent seven" had done it again – they had snuck a cow up to the roof.

Principal Dunnan investigated the complaints and discovered the now very cantankerous bovine. The sun was getting hotter and it definitely wasn't happy to be where it was.

The janitor had tried to approach the cow so he could lead it back downstairs, but the cow snorted at him and butted him away with her head.

They then had to call Animal Control for help.

The professional assessment was that, since the cow was in such a bad mood, they would need to sedate it and use a crane to lower it to the ground since it could not be carried safely downstairs and leaving it on the roof wasn't an option.

The hunt was then on for the perpetrators of the deed, the students looking very innocent when questioned by the faculty. Perhaps it was their rival school…?

The thing that toppled the house of cards was when a janitor found Pratt's music composition book on the shelf by the back door, along with several tuffs of hay.

He was brought in for questioning and finally caved under the pressure, naming the rest of his co-conspirators, and now they were all facing the music.

The parents had been called in for a meeting with the principal and school board, and now the boys were being called in one-by-one for their punishment to be mete out.

Maybe the only good thing about this was that there were no police present, Rodgers reflected as the door opened and Harrington walked out of Dunnan's office.

Mr. Harrington III waited in the outer office, the scowl evident on his red face.

Harrington Jr's head was down and his shoulder's slumped, but as he walked past Rodgers, he flashed a quick devil-may-care smile and a thumb's up for Rodgers' eyes only.

"Mr. Rodgers," Principal Dunnan said severely, looking at him.

Rodgers stood up and wiped his sweaty hands on his pants before walking into the office.

"Em, do you want me to sit down?" Rodgers asked nervously as he looked at the principal.

Dunnan shook his head and walked over to his desk, picking up an envelope. "No, this won't take long." He paused for a moment. "Mrs. Brighton pointed out that you had enough credits to graduate in December but decided to remain with us for the spring semester. That being said, here is your diploma based on your grades in December. You will not receive credit for this semester. And Mrs. Brighton has cleaned out your locker."

He handed the envelope to the shocked boy. "Goodbye, Mr. Rodgers."

"But what about finals and prom and graduation?" stammered Rodgers as he took the envelope.

"As I have already said, you have enough credits to graduate. And you will not be attending prom and graduation. Please remove yourself from the premises immediately," Dunnan said with finality. "You are no longer a student here at Faircroft."

"Yes, sir," Rodgers said in a quiet voice.

He walked to the door and then paused before looking back at Dunnan who was sitting at his desk.

"Sir, what about Porcia?"

Dunnan frowned at him, surprised that Rodgers would be the one to ask when none of the other boys had.

"The cow?" Dunnan said.

Rodgers nodded.

"Perhaps you should have thought about that earlier," Dunnan replied.

"But—"

Dunnan put his hand up to stop the boy. "Is the cow yours?"

Rodgers paused for a moment and straightened. He'd be damned if he took anyone else down with him. "Yes, sir, she is."

"Animal Control has taken her to a shelter. They will determine if where she was living is suitable and then decide what to do with her." Dunnan regarded him for a moment. "Is there anything else, Mr. Rodgers?"

Rodgers shook his head and took a breath. He had really screwed up this time and knew he couldn't make it right, but his mother had taught him to always be gracious. "No, sir, there isn't. Thank you for the privilege of attending Faircroft, sir."

Dunnan frowned as he watched the boy walk out and silently close the door behind him.

Martha was waiting in front of the school with the box that Mrs. Brighton had given her. He had been so close this time, she thought as she watched her son walk morosely out of the door towards her.

He stopped in front of her, not meeting her eyes. "Sorry, Mom," he said simply. "I wasn't thinking."

"No, Richard, you weren't," she answered truthfully. She ran a hand through his hair, smoothing his bangs back. "You're 18 now, legally an adult. It could have been so much worse."

Rodgers nodded. "I know."

"Let's go home," Martha said.

It was several days later, after prom had happened, that Rodgers found himself sitting in the New York Public Library, his place of refuge, contemplating his future, the endless possibilities that he just couldn't quite get excited about.

He was 18 so he wasn't legally required to be in school and he had already graduated, he had to keep reminding himself, so there was actually no need. He just felt so lost and even writing was failing him at this point.

Martha had tasked him with deciding where he wanted to go to college. He had had several offers, some in-state, some out-of-state, but this was a major decision.

He looked at the stack of newspapers in front of him and picked one up. The one advantage about being able to read so fast was that he could cover a lot of material quickly and he hoped that the papers would help him decide where to go to college.

He quickly skimmed through the newspapers from New Hampshire and Pennsylvania, but they seemed rather dull.

He then picked up the Boston Globe…yeah, he could go to Boston. The city was large enough to offer endless possibilities and close enough that he could come home on the weekends. That is, if his mother didn't get a touring production and sublet the apartment while she was gone.

He thumbed through the first section, noting things that might interest him on the pad of paper he always carried with him. Boston definitely had possibilities.

He glanced at the front of the City and Local News section and noticed a story below the fold about the Boston bloody heart serial killer striking again. Hmmm, that was interesting in a rather creepy way. He had started reading murder mysteries several years ago and made a game out of trying to identify the killer before the author revealed them.

But this was real life and someone had died – someone named Hector Ramirez, a young dock worker, an illegal who had been in the country for just a year. Ramirez had been murdered yesterday, strangled, and his heart cut out.

Rodgers paused when he read that, feeling the hairs on his neck rise up. That was definitely creepy – maybe a satanic cult had done this in a ritual sacrifice?

He read further – in the last couple of months, two other murders had been committed in the same manner and police had no clues. But they had now posted a $25,000 reward for information that would lead to the arrest of the killer.

The building Ramirez had been found in was being renovated and the sprinkler system still worked, so when the body was on fire, the sprinklers eventually went off and the alarm sounded.

He flipped to the page that the article was continued on and froze, all of his attention focused on the three grainy black and white pictures.

They were of altars found at the crime scenes of the Ramirez's murder and the two other murders. And they weren't just any altars, they were the altar out of his nightmares, the one he had seen the night that Tony had murdered the cubs.

Auntie M's words haunted him. Mr. Chang had thought the blood of the cubs would keep him young, but "Everyone knows it's the hearts of virile young men that do that."

Was that what the Boston bloody heart killer was trying to do?

He quickly made a copy of the article and then spent some time looking up articles on the other two murders.

The first was almost a side note, just the fact that a delivery boy by the name of Van Hung had been strangled and his heart cut out. He had been found partially burnt in a large field and he had no family to report him missing; his employer thought he had walked off the job.

The article about the second murder had a little more detail since the same method had been used and someone thought to link the two. Sajid Jabir had immigrated to the United States two years ago and was working as a bicycle courier. It was cold that night he was murdered and some homeless people had slipped into an abandoned building for protection, only to find a body on fire. They had had put out the fire and reported it to the police.

Rodgers thought for a long moment. He hadn't talked to Auntie M in several years, but maybe if he showed her what he found, she would know what was going on.

He gathered up the copies he had made and walked to the restaurant. It was well past lunch time, so maybe he could get a free meal as well as information.

He walked through the front door and smiled at the hostess. "Is Au—Mrs. Chang in?" he asked.

The girl just cocked her head at him and he was about to ask again when he spied Lee walking through the kitchen door and waved at him.

Lee smiled back, dropped the food off at a table, and then rushed over to him and grabbed him in a hug.

"Ricky, it's been forever! How are you?" Lee asked. "Come on back into the kitchen. I'm doing inventory in between waiting tables."

The boys walked back into the kitchen where several cooks were working.

"Hey, Miguel – this is my good friend, Ricky Rodgers," said Lee. "Why don't you fry him up some of your special rice?"

The Hispanic cook nodded at Rodgers with a smile. "Pollo or carne?" he asked.

"Carne," Rodgers replied and then smiled back at Lee. "So what's new with you?"

"Assistant manager now," laughed Lee. "Which means I get all the grunt work here, but they think that will make me a better manager. What about you?"

"I was at the library this morning trying to figure out where I want to go to college," Rodgers replied.

"Not at school?" Lee asked.

"No, I got out early—" which was sort of the truth. "Anyway, I was hoping that Auntie M was around. I need to get her opinion on something."

Lee shook his head. "No, she's not here." He looked at his watch. "In fact, I have to go pick her up at the airport in a little while."

Rodger's eyebrow shot up slightly. "You mean the weasel isn't doing that?"

"If you're referring to that worthless bastard ex-husband of hers, then no." Lee looked at him in surprise at the confused expression on Rodger's face. "Oh, you don't know, do you? They got a divorce three years ago. Mr. high and mighty Chang told my gorgeous aunt that she wasn't young enough for him anymore. Do you know that he even had the nerve to tell her that if she ever got young again, he'd consider taking her back? Like someone could do that."

Rodgers nodded slightly and then swallowed. "Yeah, you don't say." He paused for a moment. It wasn't possible – there was no way she could have done what he was thinking…could she? "Lee, where is Auntie M?"

"Boston," Lee replied. "She hasn't been pleased with the lobsters our supplier has been sending us, so she went up there to straighten things out. You know Auntie M; she has to have the best of everything."

Lee took the plate that Miguel handed him and put it in front of Rodgers. "Can you still use chopsticks or do you need silverware, white boy?"

Suddenly Rodgers wasn't very hungry any more.

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	5. Chapter 5 The Smoking Gun

**One Reason**

Summary: Another version of what happened to Castle in Hollander's Woods when he was 11 and how that influenced him to become a mystery writer.

Author's Notes: We're back to a high T now. And yes, don't be cruel to animals. Thanks for much for all the reviews, follows, and favs. They really mean a lot. Rated high T for swearing.

Sorry for the long delay. My brother had surgery in early April and had severe complications, so we went to see him and stayed a lot longer than anticipated and I didn't take my laptop with me because it was supposed to be a short trip. Unfortunately, he has gotten worse and we're taking him off of life support tomorrow so I wanted to get this posted before we left again.

And on a happier note, yeah! Another season of Castle! Happy dance! (And the fact that Castle isn't produced by Shonda Rhimes). And hopefully everyone will be back. Now, we just have to wait and see.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

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**Chapter 5 – The Smoking Gun**

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_\- Still in the past-_

"Hey, Mom, you home?" Rodgers called out as he opened the door to their small apartment. He listened intently for a few moments to see if Martha was indeed home and maybe just in the middle of doing something that he really didn't want to think about, but no, fortunately, he was alone.

He breathed a sigh of relief, put the take-out container of Miguel's special fried rice in the refrigerator, and then paused.

Now for step 1 of his plan, he thought as he walked over to the cabinet and took out a bottle of Martha's favorite wine. With a quick twist, he uncorked the bottle and carefully poured it into the decanter, letting the wine breathe.

Now for step 2 – he picked up the phone and quickly dialed a number.

"Hello?" a woman answered a moment later.

"Mrs. Collins, this is Ricky. Is Steve home?" Rodgers asked, while twirling the long phone cord around his finger.

"Oh, hi, Ricky. Let me check." There was a pause and then a loud "Stevy! You have a phone call!" Even though her voice was muffled, Rodgers could hear her quite clearly and held the phone out slightly from his ear, wincing slightly.

A few moments later, Steve answered. "Hey, Rodgers. Man, that's really shitty, what they did to you. It's not fair that Harrington's father could just fork over the money for the crane and then make a sizable donation to the school to get his rat-ass son out of hot water. And the other boys – they weren't any better."

Rodgers nodded silently in agreement. His mother didn't have the money or the political clout of the rest of the magnificent 7. It had been a miracle that they had included him in their circle.

"And that was really shitty of Audrina to dump you like that, right before prom," continued Steve. "You know she went with Harrington."

Or maybe not, Rodgers thought – he may have been the patsy all along. But that didn't seem important now. "Steve, are you and your mom still going to Boston this weekend to look at colleges?"

"Yeah," said Steve.

"Is it okay if I go with you?" Rodgers asked.

"Sure, but let me ask." Steve put his hand over the phone and yelled at his mother as Rodgers pulled the phone away from his ear again.

Steve was back a few moments later. "She said it was fine and that we'll pick you up tomorrow afternoon before we head up to Boston."

"Great. Hey, listen – I'm thinking about going up early tomorrow to check out some of the museums first – you know, since I'm already graduated and everything. Why don't I just meet you at the hotel tomorrow night?" Rodgers wheedled.

"Okay," said Steve. "We're staying at the Marriott near the campus." He paused for a moment. "Oh, and my mom wants to make sure that this is okay with your mom."

"Sure, it's cool with her. I'll meet you at the hotel about 7 tomorrow night," Rodgers said.

"See you then," replied Steve.

Rodgers hung up the phone and pulled out the phone book, looking up the bus line and Amtrak phone numbers. If he left early enough, he would have time to go to the police department to talk with a detective before meeting Steve and his mother tomorrow night.

He wrote down the schedule on a scrap piece of paper and put it in his wallet as he heard the front door open and Martha walk in.

"Richard, darling, I'm home," Martha called out, dropping her purse on a side table. "How was your day?"

"I'm in the kitchen," Rodgers replied, walking over to the counter and pouring Martha a glass of wine from the decanter. He held out the glass to her as she walked into the room. "And how was your day, mother dear?"

Martha paused and pursed her lips as she took the glass. "So what have you done now?"

"Mother, is that any way to greet your loving son?" Rodgers asked with an innocent expression. "I'm truly wounded."

"When you have a glass of wine waiting for me, kiddo," Martha replied. "Yes."

"Since you asked," Rodgers replied, "Steve and his mother are going to Boston for the weekend to look at colleges. I thought I'd go with them and see if I like any of them, you know, since I have to make a decision in the next couple of weeks."

Martha frowned as she studied him for a few moments.

Rodgers continued. "We'll be back Sunday night."

Martha shook her head slightly. "Oh, kiddo, I'm just not sure."

"Mrs. Collins will be chaperoning us and you know how straight-laced she is," Rodgers blurted out. "And I promise I won't get into any trouble…" he said hopefully.

Martha sighed as she gently put a hand on his cheek and felt the slight stubble. Her little boy was growing up and he was going off to college soon – fortunately, what he had done hadn't changed that. She had to start trusting him again at some point.

"You'll need money for food," she finally relented.

Rodgers gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "Already got that covered."

He walked over to the refrigerator. "Are you hungry? I stopped by China East and Miguel fixed some of his special fried rice."

"Sounds great," said Martha. She smiled wistfully as she watched him take out the container and quickly fix 2 plates. Their time of living together was coming to an end all too quickly.

Rodgers had barely been able to sleep that night, the feeling of dread and anticipation keeping him tossing and turning. When he did sleep, a bear that looked like Auntie M stood over him with a red rope in her hands.

When the alarm rang at 3 AM, he quickly turned it off, dressed quietly, and picked up the small bag he had packed the night before.

He listened at his bedroom door a few moments to make sure Martha was in her room and then quietly opened it. He put the note he had written on the kitchen counter and then quickly walked out of the apartment and headed towards the bus station to catch the early bus to Boston.

The trip was uneventful, but that didn't quell the butterflies in his stomach and soon he found himself sitting by the desk of Detective Barnsworth who was handling the case.

"So, you are Richard Alexander Rodgers from New York City and you have information about the Boston bleeding heart serial killer," said the pudgy older man, pulling his chair out with a screech and sitting down with a thud.

Rodgers swallowed and nodded solemnly. "Yes." He took a breath and ran a hand through his hair, frowning. "I think the killer is my Auntie M – uh, Maisie Chao – but she really isn't my aunt, she's just a close family friend – uh, was a close family friend," he stammered. "I actually haven't seen her in several years – since she told me she wanted to eat my heart."

"Uh, huh," nodded Barnsworth. He narrowed his piercing black eyes as he regarded the youth sitting across from him. "And you didn't think that was odd and tell anyone about it?"

Rodgers shrugged. "At the time, I was 11 and I really wasn't sure what she meant."

"Uh, huh," nodded Barnsworth again. "But you figured it out." He sat back in his chair and took a sip of coffee. "So why don't you tell me how you came to this conclusion – that your – Auntie M – is our serial killer?"

Rodgers nodded and related the tale of the bear cubs, describing in detail the altar that he had seen that night so long ago and then what Auntie M had said to him afterwards. He showed the detective the articles he had found about the murders yesterday.

"When I saw the picture, I knew it was the same altar – the one Tony set up when he killed the cubs, so I stopped by the restaurant to ask Auntie M if she could tell me anything about the ritual – maybe the killer was doing the same thing," Rodgers finished, "but Lee said she was in Boston. She was here when the last murder was committed. And she's been coming here for several years."

"And that's why you think it's your 'aunt'?" asked Barnsworth.

Rodgers nodded and took a breath. "Yeah, I do."

Barnsworth was silent, glancing at him several times as he studied the notes he had taken. He finally pushed the pad of paper away.

"Interesting story," the detective said, nodding as he sat back in his chair. He smiled slightly. "So what brings you to Boston, Mr. Rodgers?"

"I'm here with a friend, looking at colleges," Rodgers replied. "I took the bus this morning from New York and I'm meeting him this evening."

"I see," said Barnsworth, nodding again. "You do know there is a $10,000 reward for information that leads to the arrest of the Boston bloody heart serial killer?"

Rodgers nodded in return. "Yes, that was in one of the articles."

"Uh, huh," said Barnsworth, drumming his pen against the top of the desk as he pursed his lips together. "And these colleges you're looking at – are you pledging for any of the fraternities?"

Rodgers frowned and then shook his head. "No, I hadn't really thought about that. Why?"

"Because this is a pretty fanciful tale – a little hard to believe," said Barnsworth, leaning forward in his chair, peering at the young man. "Son, are you sure that someone didn't put you up to this? You do know that lying to a police officer is a criminal offense."

"But I didn't lie," said Rodgers. "Everything I told you is the truth."

Barnsworth sat back in his chair, frowning again, before he continued. "The problem is that you don't have any proof. It's all circumstantial and I can't make a case with that."

"Actually, I do have proof," Rodgers said quietly, reaching into his bag and pulling out a small plastic bag containing a piece of red rope. "This is the rope that Tony used to strangle the cubs. If it's really Auntie M, she would have used a rope similar to this to strangle the victims – it's part of the ritual."

Barnsworth frowned as he took the bag and stared at the contents.

"None of the articles mentioned what was used," Rodgers theorized. "That may have had been left out on purpose so you'd know if someone had a real lead or not."

"Stay here," snapped Barnsworth as he stood and took the bag over to another detective's desk.

They spoke in hushed tones, glancing several times at Rodgers, before Barnsworth came back over and pushed the pad of paper at him. "Kid, write down your story and don't leave out any of the details."

Rodgers nodded and then looked at Barnsworth as he picked up the pen. "It's her, isn't it?" he asked softly, tears in his eyes.

Barnsworth sprung for dinner and sat reading the pages, his feet propped up on the desk, as Rodgers furiously wrote down everything he could remember. It took several hours, but the tale was finally complete.

Now all it needed was an ending, Rodgers thought as he laid the pen on the desk, but whatever the ending was, it wouldn't be a happy one.

"Hmmm," Barnsworth commented around a mouthful of hamburger. "Kid, you got a real talent. Hell, if police reports were written this well, they wouldn't be so boring." He pursed his lips again as he looked at Rodgers. "You ever think about becoming a police officer?"

Rodgers shook his head. "No, I think writing is more my style." He massaged his hand to stop the cramping. "So what happens now?"

"If I were you, I'd stay away Auntie M, but you pretty much know that already," said Barnsworth, handing Rodgers a business card. "We'll be in touch. It may take a couple of months, so let me know if you change addresses."

Rodgers nodded. "I will, sir, and thank you for believing me."

He glanced at his watch. He had just enough time to get to the hotel and meet Steve and his mother there.

# # # # # # # # #

_\- Present Day-_

"Richard Alexander Edgar Rogers Castle, you are grounded for lying to me and going after a serial killer by yourself!" exclaimed Martha, glaring at her son.

"Technically I didn't lie and I went to the police," said Castle, with a slightly sheepish expression. "They went after the serial killer."

"Potāto, potäto," miffed Martha with a wave of her hand.

"So it was really Auntie M?" asked Alexis, wide-eyed. "They caught her, didn't they?"

Castle nodded slowly, sadly. "Yes, and fortunately before she murdered anyone else. It took a couple of months ago because forensics wasn't as good as they are today. They matched the rope I gave them to the rope used on the victims and then they found a spool of it in Auntie M's luggage when she went back to Boston two months later."

Beckett nodded as she remembered the symposium. "When they took her in, she confessed to the three murders and then added several more to the list."

"Dad, what happened to her?" asked Alexis. "Massachusetts abolished the death penalty in 1984."

"Seems like they should have kept it," commented Espo under his breath.

"They found her guilty but also insane in that one small area, and committed her to a state institution for the rest of her life," said Castle, twirling the wine in his glass.

Lanie nodded. "I recall that she committed suicide about 10 years later."

Castle nodded sadly. "Yeah, she did." He paused for a moment. "I visited her about a month before it happened."

They all sat around nodding their heads in thought until Ryan looked at Castle suddenly.

"That means you got the reward – wasn't it $10,000?" he asked.

Castle nodded with a slight smile.

"And you being a college freshman, I'm sure you didn't spend that on higher education," added Lanie.

"So what did you blow it on?" asked Espo. "Frat party with several kegs of illegal beer?" he guessed.

"No, floor seats to the Knicks to see Patrick Ewing," said Ryan.

"Renting a Ferrari for a weekend," countered Espo.

"A trip to the Bahamas," Ryan replied.

"None of the above, gentlemen, but the money was put to very good use," Castle said as he smiled at his mother.

Martha smiled back at him, her eyes a little misty, and nodded. "I was in a play that fall and a Mr. Pierre DuBois saw the opening performance and was so moved that he underwrote my character for the duration of the play."

"Pierre DuBois from _Storm Rising_?" asked Beckett.

"I've always liked that name," Castle nodded, taking a sip of his wine. He started to say something else when Beckett's and Lanie's phones rang simultaneously.

They quickly answered as the rest of the room paused, listening in.

"Got a body," said Beckett as she ended the call and stood up.

"We'll clean up here," Alexis volunteered.

"And we'll be back later," said Kate as she kissed Martha on the cheek and gave Alexis a quick squeeze.

"Don't wait up," Castle said.

"Be safe," Martha replied. She put a hand on Castle's cheek and smiled slightly. "And thank you, Richard, but you're still grounded."

"I love you too, Mom," Castle said as he quickly kissed her on the cheek before walking out the door, hand-in-hand with Beckett.

# # # # # # # # #

-The End-


End file.
